


The Baker Street Pack

by captaincumberbitch, owlish (slowshows)



Series: The Holmes Pack of Baker Street [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Lestrade, Alpha!Mycroft, Alpha!Sherlock, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Belly Kink, Birth, Breastfeeding, Breeding, Collars, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, Highly questionable biology, Impregnation, John Watson is Crazy Knocked Up, Knotting, Lactation Kink, Literally Made Up, M/M, Multi, Omega Verse, Omega!John, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pregnancy Kink, Size Kink, Smut, multiple pregnancy, omega!molly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincumberbitch/pseuds/captaincumberbitch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/slowshows/pseuds/owlish
Summary: Follows on from The Baker Street Dozen.Sherlock and John are bonded, and have a small army of children. Mycroft is the head of the Holmes pack, and keeps a careful eye on everyone under his protection. Lestrade and Molly are bonded, and part of the Holmes pack.This will be less linear than TBSD - it's more a series of events in the lives of the Holmes pack.Fluff, sex, Omegaverse, you know the drill.





	The Baker Street Pack

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here is Part II of The Baker Street Dozen!
> 
> This is an on-going RP between the two of us, and is minimally edited. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy the new chapter!

"Do you remember what happened right before and after your injury?"

 

"No."

 

"Did you lose consciousness after the injury?"

 

" _Obviously_." 

 

The doctor sighed, turning off her miniature torch with a _click_. "Mr Holmes, your pupils aren't responding properly to light."

 

"I'm not concussed," Sherlock growled.

 

"Your eyes are slightly crossed, you've spectacularly failed the nose-to-finger test-" "I'm _not_ concussed." 

 

"-Not to mention a litany of other standard-"

 

"I **_am not_** concussed **!** " Sherlock shouted, and promptly doubled over to vomit in the plastic bin on his lap. 

 

"Irritability. Nausea. Vomiting. I'm afraid so. And it's all recorded right here," the doctor said, tapping her clipboard. "Which means you will not be leaving tonight. Now please, if we can just get on with your memory... What year is it?"

 

"2016," Sherlock spat, wiping his mouth.

 

"What is your mate's name?"

 

"John Hamish Holmes-Watson."

 

"And how many pups have you sired on him?"

 

"Twenty-three."

 

The doctor paused, looking up from her clipboard. "Sorry?"

 

"Twenty-three," Sherlock replied with a proud smirk, and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

The doctor blinked once, and contemplated the necessity of ordering a CT scan for the Alpha. "Alright. Name them," she challenged.

 

Sherlock's smirk blossomed into a wide, crooked grin. He inhaled deeply, puffing out his chest a little, and said, "Adam Gregory, Miles Artemus, Eleanor Sophia, Lucy Elspeth, Iris Victoria, Imogen Ava, Blake Everett, Arthur Amadeus, Alistair Robert, Benedict David, Felix Bennet, Viola Sibyl, Enora Anne, Miranda Rose, Jasper Benjamin, Percival Giles, Hugo Eliot, Charlotte Olivia, George William, Lorna Beatrice, Selena Phoebe, Stewart Linus, and Rupert Gabriel."

 

There was a long pause. "That's- you're just making them up!" the doctor finally accused, all the colour drained from her cheeks. She stared at the Alpha, who had managed not to vomit again and was looking immensely pleased with himself. The way his eyes twinkled was maddening. At best, he was having her on; at worst, he had serious brain damage. "You're just saying names," she insisted. 

 

"Am not," Sherlock hummed.

 

"I'm ordering further tests-"

 

"I'm telling the truth," Sherlock interjected.

 

"You can't be," the Beta woman said, writing something on her chart with a trembling hand, "It's almost unheard of. Please take this seriously, Mr Holmes."

 

"It's Holmes-Watson, actually," came a pleasant voice from behind the doctor. She turned to find John smiling politely at her, still wearing an enormous parka to protect against the October chill.

 

"You must be John?" the doctor asked, relaxing minutely at John's nod. "Could you please name all of your children for me?" She threw a quick reproachful look at Sherlock, as if to say _you're lying or concussed, let's find out which_.

 

John took a deep breath. "Adam Gregory, Miles Artemus, Eleanor Sophia, Lucy Elspeth, Iris Victoria, Imogen Ava, Blake Everett, Arthur Amadeus, Alistair Robert, Benedict David, Felix Bennet, Viola Sibyl, Enora Anne, Miranda Rose, Jasper Benjamin, Percival Giles, Hugo Eliot, Charlotte Olivia, George William, Lorna Beatrice, Selena Phoebe, Stewart Linus, and Rupert Gabriel."

 

The doctor had been smiling smugly as John recited the names of the first seven or eight pups, but her expression changed into surprise as he continued naming children. When he reached fifteen he paused for breath, and the doctor opened her mouth to berate Sherlock for making up extra pups; but then John carried on naming them, and by the time he had finished the doctor was staring at him, jaw dropped in disbelief. 

 

"I take it he's concussed, then?" John said mildly, crossing the room to nuzzle his Alpha's curls. "Hello, love," he purred, cooing in pleasure when Sherlock grabbed him and immediately began to scent him. "Wait, _wait_ will you, I'm too hot now, I need this parka off..." John wriggled out of the jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair, giggling as his Alpha pulled him impatiently back into his lap. 

 

The doctor simply stared, a look of total shock on her face, as John removed the jacket and revealed his swollen belly.

 

"Are... Are you expecting another pup?" she asked incredulously.

 

"Mmm, twins," John managed, having to dodge determined kisses from Sherlock. They had been apart for hours now, and John knew that his mate was feeling the urge to re-scent and reclaim him. "Concussed, then, is he?"

 

"What - oh, yes. Definitely concussed... If you'll excuse me I need to go and... consult a colleague," the doctor managed, fleeing the room.

 

Sherlock grinned widely as she went. "Not concussed," he insisted between passionate kisses, the vomit bucket strategically placed on the nightstand. Eager as he'd been to hide it, he knew John would be furious if he ended up serving as its substitute. "Don't remember what happened, but need to finish the case if I was on one. Not now, though. Need you now. Missed you. Mine," he rumbled, and pressed his nose to a scent glad. Moaning happily, he inhaled the smell of _John_ and _pregnant Omega_  laced with _pack._ Twenty-three unique little scents were also perfectly present. Sherlock purred deeply. His hands splayed across the full globe of John's belly, and soon fumbled for John's buttons. "Off?" he begged when he couldn't manage the coordination. He gave his mate the best - slightly crossed - puppy eyes he could manage, the innocence of which was undermined by the way he was rocking his hips to rub his hard cock against the Omega.

 

"Shhhh, shhh, it's alright... We can't, we don't have time," John whispered, "and you _are_ concussed, your eyes have gone funny - hands _off_ , look, like this..." John made short work of his buttons and lifted his vest, exposing his seven-month-pregnant belly to the cool air. "Wank off over my stomach and then rub it in," John instructed, his voice thick with lust. "The rest will have to wait until you're cleared by a doctor _who is not me_." Lunging forward, he captured his mate's lips in a searing kiss while his hand yanked back the blankets and began stroking Sherlock's throbbing erection, slicking it with precum. "Now are you going to be a good boy for me and wank yourself off until you come all over this big, pregnant belly you gave me?" John whispered teasingly, knowing Sherlock would be more pliant afterwards if the Alpha was in control of his own orgasm. "Because good boys get rewards..." He licked his Alpha's neck suggestively before leaning back to unbutton his shirt and expose his breasts. "If you're a good boy for me and get my belly all nice and wet with your cum, you can have a little feed before the doctor gets back," he moaned breathily, his own little cock hard in his trousers from the thought.

 

Sherlock whined, practically squirming with desire. Mustering a surprising amount of coordination, he took his massive cock in his hand and began to stroke. After twenty-three pups, his fingers were barely able to curl around the full girth of it. "John," he moaned, his free hand twitching with the urge to grope the heavy Omega. He fought it off valiantly. "I'm going to be a good boy," he promised aloud, licking his lips and beginning to stroke faster.

 

Just the sight of his mate was more than enough to get the Alpha off. True to his word, Sherlock had kept John plump and round, even more so following the birth of the quintuplets, when they'd been so certain John's Change had occurred. Now, their unexpected twins added greater weight to John's already generous figure, and the Omega only needed to enter a room to make the Sherlock hard. 

 

"John," Sherlock gasped again, his massive bollocks swelling with seed. His cock leaked freely, dripping with each stroke, making a mess of the sheets beneath him. "Christ, you're so _big_ , I-" With a choked groan, the Alpha suddenly climaxed, releasing thick, hot ribbons of semen over John's exposed belly and breasts. He worked himself furiously, expelling every last drop of cum, and then wasted no time taking advantage of his renewed touching privileges. With one hand, Sherlock worked John's massive belly, and with the other, he roughly massaged a full teat, rubbing his seed into the skin. 

 

"Yeah, that's it, you're always a good boy for me, aren't you? Such a good boy," John crooned, allowing Sherlock to rub his belly and breasts until they were covered. "That's it, that's my good boy," he praised softly, stroking Sherlock's hair. "Shift over then, let me sit up against the head of the bed and then you can have your reward."

 

Firmly ignoring his own arousal in favour of comforting and soothing his mate, John gently manoeuvred his Alpha to the side and positioned himself carefully, propped up against the pillows. "Come here then, sweetheart," he purred, smiling as Sherlock crawled into his lap and curled around him like a pup. "Which one does my darling want first?" John asked, offering his mate his exposed breasts.

 

Sherlock quietly considered his two choices, before latching on to the slightly heavier left breast. The Alpha sighed contentedly as he began to suckle. Held in his Omega's maternal embrace, each pull from John's teat filling his upset stomach with warm, soothing milk, the Alpha began to relax. He made pliant little noises as he nursed, keeping his eyes open at John's coaxing. The unborn pups kicked against their sire, sensing his presence, and Sherlock smoothed a steady hand over the movement. 

 

"How did I get here?" Sherlock asked quietly after he'd drank his full, his head pillowed against John's full teats. The softness of his mate's voluptuous breasts somewhat mitigated the banging headache he experienced every time he tried to focus. The Alpha's large hand rubbed slow circles over John's middle. "It must have been a case, but I don't remember. Was Greg there?" He looked up at John sheepishly, his cheeks flushed.

 

"Hush now, sweetheart," John admonished gently. "You banged your head. You're being such a brave boy for me, it must really hurt... Yes, your heads really sore, isn't it?" He placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's forehead when the Alpha nodded. "Oh, my poor darling. Come on, let's finish your feed, and then we'll talk about what happened. Open up now, there's a good boy..." He guided Sherlock across to his right nipple, crooning and showering him with praise when he latched on and began to suckle.

 

"That's my lovely Sherlock," John hummed. He stroked his mate's back in slow, soothing circles. "My good boy, drinking up his milk. Suckling so well, aren't you? My sweet, clever boy. So good for me." John let his eyes drift closed, the feeling of Sherlock's wet mouth nursing on his nipple making him relaxed and calm. "Is that nice, love? Is my good boy enjoying his milk?"

 

 _Yes, Mummy_ , Sherlock pushed innocently through the bond. He pressed closer to John, snuggling against him. _Your good boy, Mummy. Want to be a good boy for you._ He made soft noises as he suckled, milk dribbling down his chin as the Omega's body sensed his need and produced more for him. The Alpha's belly began to distend as he nursed. Their bond soothed him, mind and body alike. Nausea, irritability, and any urge to posture fell away as John's praises comforted and coaxed Sherlock into his child's mind. 

 

 _Love you, Mummy_ , the Alpha cooed, his eyes half-closed, his fingers curled against John's breast when the doctor returned to the room. She stopped in the doorway, her mouth hanging open at the sight of the half-naked couple on the bed, the formerly imperious Alpha as docile as a pup. "I don't want to interrupt, but I do need to finish a few things, Mr Holmes-Watson," she said, blushing. 

 

"Go ahead," John said evenly, carding a hand through Sherlock's hair. "Sherlock is going to finish his feed, but he can stop to answer your questions. Can't you sweetheart?" He smiled when the Alpha mumbled a tiny _yes_ with John's nipple still firmly in his mouth. "Ah... Well... Yes, of course," the doctor managed, deciding that anything that made the Alpha easier to handle was a good thing. "His eyes aren't responding to light properly, and he mentioned still having a headache, so we'd like to do a scan to confirm there's no internal bleeding. Does he have any history of traumatic head injury?"

 

John nuzzled Sherlock's forehead as the Alpha continued to feed. "Will you answer the nice lady's question? You're doing so well, sweetheart, but we need you to answer some more questions now. Can you do that for Mummy?"

 

Sherlock looked up at John and gave a small nod, his eyes wide and trusting. He latched off just enough to turn his head, peeking at the doctor from the pillow of John's breasts. "Yes," he replied, "Hit my head several times... During cases. Had other concussions. Most recent was seven years ago."

 

"Right," the doctor murmured, making a note. "Have you vomited again since we spoke last?" 

 

"No."

 

"Are you still nauseated? Is your stomach feeling upset?"

 

"No," Sherlock said softly, and took another few pulls of milk.

 

"How is your head? Achy? Has the pain gotten any worse?"

 

"Hurts," Sherlock answered sadly, latching off with a frown and clinging tighter to John. "But not more than before. Only when I... concentrate," he finished, the large word harder to form.

 

"Alright, just one more," the doctor promised. "On a scale of one to ten, with ten being very painful and one being no pain at all, how much does your head hurt when you concentrate?"

 

"Seven," Sherlock sighed, and returned to his feeding, cooing as John rewarded him by rubbing his back.

 

"Right. As I'm sure you can see, your Alpha is concussed. He has performed poorly on vision, memory, and coordination tests, and some of his symptoms are unusually severe. I'm going to recommend a CT scan," the Beta informed John. "I don't think there's internal bleeding, but we need to be certain. We can fit him in as soon as he... finishes. No matter what we find, however, he'll need to stay overnight for observation."

 

John nodded solemnly. "Of course. I'll need to make some arrangements for the babies, but I can do that while he's having his scan." He rubbed Sherlock's back a little more, whispering to him soothingly; _you did so well, Mummy's so proud of you, my good boy._ The doctor left to arrange the scan and John simply sat there cradling Sherlock, rocking him oh-so-gently until the Alpha was finally sated and milk-drunk. He kissed his mate's forehead tenderly. "I'm sorry your head hurts, love. Feels a bit better for having a feed, hmm? Good, that's good. We just need to get you scanned to make sure you've not got any internal bleeding and then we can get you some more pain meds and settle you for the night and you can have a nice long sleep, okay?" "We're ready for him now," the doctor announced, leaning into the room. "Will you help get him in the machine? He's far more... pliant with you than he is with us." John chuckled. "Come on then, love. Up we get, time for a scan. Do you want to hold Mummy's hand on the way?"

 

Sherlock nodded, getting reluctantly into the provided wheelchair. He winced against the bright lights and pressed close to John as the Omega waddled down the hall next to him. 

 

As Sherlock refused to enter without his mate, they paused for John to strip and don a protective apron at the door to the CT Scan room. "We usually don't allow pregnant Omegas in here, even when the machine is off, but you should be fine for just a few minutes while he gets settled on the table," the doctor informed him before they passed the doors. 

 

With some coaxing, Sherlock lay back on the bed, allowing John to leave with the promise that he would remain nearby during the scan. _Mummy, it's uncomfortable_ , he complained through the bond as the machine started up, clenching his fingers in the sheets. _I... I don't like being alone here after all._

 

 _Oh, my darling, you aren't alone,_ John sent back instantly. He pushed a huge wave of love, contentment, and calmness through the bond towards his mate. _I'm right there with you, sweetheart. Mummy's here. You're doing so well darling, just a few more minutes and then you'll be all done. Mummy's so proud of you, sweetheart. Just relax now, it won't be much longer._ John kept up his litany of praise and encouragement, never letting Sherlock feel alone, until the machine bleeped a few minutes later to signal the end of the scan. The bed slid slowly out of the machine and when it was safe John waddled back into the room to coax Sherlock off the machine and back into the wheelchair. He allowed the Alpha to nuzzle into his breasts as he sat down, cooing softly to him. When they were settled back in Sherlock's private room, the doctor popped her head round the door. "It's good news - there's no internal bleeding. We're going to keep him in overnight as a precaution, but he should be just fine after a good rest."

 

Sherlock lay curled next to John on the bed, feeding lazily from one of his teats. His gaze flicked upward toward the door, narrowing a little at the presence of the doctor. _Go home now? Want to go home. Don't need to stay,_ he insisted, even as the physician entered the room to give him his first dose of pain medication. 

 

 _Not concussed,_ he repeated stupidly as John flicked on the television to help distract him. While he wasn't allowed to watch the bright screen for long, Sherlock cooed as John settled on an episode of _Mythbusters_. He listened as the hosts described the use of urine in canine communication and territorial marking, their scientific explanations lulling him into deeper contentment in John's arms.

 

When John announced he needed to leave to tend to the pups, however, everything nearly fell to pieces. 

 

 ** _Don't leave!_** the confused detective cried through the bond, large tears spilling down his cheeks. He whimpered and whined, clinging to John as the Omega attempted to button his shirt. **_Mummy! Don't go, Mummy! Please, don't leave me alone! Take me with you-_** Sherlock sniffled and sobbed, keened and wailed, saying anything he could think of to stay by John's side.

 

 _Oh, sweetheart, don't worry, Mummy isn't leaving you alone, won't ever leave you alone. The little ones need feeding, so Mummy needs to go and feed them, but I'll come back as soon as I can, I promise. You need to stay here and rest and get better, sweetheart, but Mummy will come right back._ John frantically texted Mycroft, breathing a sigh of relief when the reply came through. _Your big brother is coming to keep you company just until Mummy gets back, won't that be nice?_ he cajoled, _Myc will come and sit with you and read to you if you like._ He wiped Sherlock's tears away with the hem of his sleeve, rocking and holding him. _You know Mummy wouldn't ever abandon you, don't you Sherlock? So you know that Mummy will come right back, too._ John stayed with Sherlock, holding him and soothing him, letting him suckle when he needed it, until an exhausted-looking Mycroft strolled into the room. The Alpha's shirt was rumpled, unbuttoned at the neck, and his tie was missing. There was a stain on his trousers that John suspected very strongly was baby vomit. "Hello Sherlock," he murmured softly. "How are you feeling?" He nodded a greeting to John, his expression soft and kind. He knew that John must have settled Sherlock immensely, as the doctors hadn't complained too much about the stubborn detective.

Sherlock whimpered, his lower lip wobbling, and reached out for his brother. "Mikey sit?" he pleaded, buying John enough time to wiggle off the bed and finish dressing. 

 

"No, like this-," Sherlock pouted as Mycroft merely perched on the end of the bed. Without a second thought, he grabbed the pack leader by the arm and waist, tugging here and there until he'd successfully manoeuvred Mycroft into place. The end result was the elder Holmes brother reclining back against the mattress, Sherlock sitting comfortably between his spread legs, snuggling against him. "Better," the detective declared, yawning widely as he made himself comfortable. Exhausted by his condition, and placated by the protective presence of his big brother, he soon fell asleep on Mycroft's chest. 

 

When Sherlock woke a few hours later, it was to Mycroft's soft snores and a firm, uncomfortable pressure in his bladder. Dazed and confused, he detached himself from his sibling and crawled out of bed, clutching at his IV pole for support. Two doors presented themselves in front of him: one, the exit to the hallway, and the other, the bathroom. He could puzzle out which one he needed, but the hall door made him recall something. With a proud smile, he made his way over to it, lifted his gown, and let out a few splashes of urine against the frame. "My territory," he explained matter-of-factly at the dismayed nurse who came hurrying down the hallway towards him.

 

John arrived just in time to hear Sherlock's explanation to the nurse. He was pushing one of the prams originally built for their first litter, which contained their 10-month-old quintuplets and their 19-month-old twins; he was in no position to chivvy Sherlock back into the room physically, but the scene before him was so surreal he had to stifle a laugh. "Sherlock, sweetheart, why don't you go and use the bathroom like a big boy? - yes, darling, very good, you've marked it now. Erm, well done. Now off you go and use the big boy toilet please." When the Alpha trotted off to obey, John apologised profusely to the nurse, who simply smiled placidly. "I assure you, I've seen much worse. He's obviously badly concussed, the poor lamb. You go on and look after him, we'll have this cleaned up in no time." "Thank you," John replied sincerely, steering the pram into Sherlock's room. "Mycroft!" he hissed at the flustered-looking pack leader, "what happened? You were supposed to be watching him and he's just pissed all over the door frame!"

 

"I- Ah..," Mycroft managed lamely, chagrined. As dominant and powerful a pack leader as he was, he could still be cowed by an irate John. "In my own defence, it's been a long day. Not to mention we are in a hospital, so truly, it's a nurse's position to watch over- That is to say, I was mostly meant to be a teddy bear rather than a watchdog..," he said, quickly changing directions in the face of John's no-excuses glare. 

 

In truth, Mycroft had been deeply asleep, exhausted after a full day with his brother's numerous offspring, too many of whom were able to walk or crawl at an alarming speed, and each of whom had their own idea of what they wanted to play. He'd woken with a start to the sound of voices, the sight of his brother urinating freely, and a sinking feeling that he would be eviscerated by John Holmes-Watson. Wiping the drool from his chin, the disoriented pack Alpha had attempted a vault out of bed, caught his foot on the guard rail in the dark, had the wind knocked out of him when he landed on his stomach, and managed to pick himself up to try and rectify the situation- just in time to meet with John coming through the doorway. 

 

Sherlock, in the meantime, had finished relieving himself in the appropriate area, and was now cooing over his youngest pups as if nothing odd had just happened. "Hello, baby," he purred as Charlotte gave a pleased shriek of " _Dada_!" Hugo soon joined in the chorus, and the quints woke at the commotion, all five babies babbling and cooing at the sight of their father.

 

John exhaled hard through his nose. "It's alright, Mycroft," he said wearily, "I know you've had a long day looking after the pups, and I appreciate it. Looks like he's coming back to us a little..." Mycroft relaxed imperceptibly. John's ire was not something he enjoyed suffering. "Thirteen three-year-olds are certainly a handful," the pack Alpha commented. "Well... twelve of them are a handful. Arthur still seems determined to move as little as possible. I sat him down next to the bookcase and he sat there reading to himself all afternoon..." John chuckled at Mycroft's words, watching fondly as his Alpha fussed over their two youngest litters. "Hello love," he said cheerily. John leaned in and gave Sherlock a quick kiss on the cheek. "How are you feeling? Better for a sleep?" He carefully shooed Sherlock back onto the hospital bed and began piling pups on top of him, hoping to keep him calm. "Do you need anything from home while you're here overnight?"

"John, really-" Sherlock began to protest, beginning to come back a bit too much to his regular self, "I'm feeling better. Overnight is hardly reasonable-" The Alpha grunted as Hugo plopped happily down on his chest, splaying his legs and beginning to use his father as a drum. Sherlock obligingly rubbed his son's back with one hand, raising the other to grip the guardrail and sit up when Selena grabbed it gleefully, flopping over and pinning it to the mattress with her chubby body. George curled up in the crook of Sherlock's neck, Lorna and Stewart settled against his stomach, Rupert grabbed his curls as he perched on the pillow above Sherlock's head, and Charlotte quietly sat on his knee and looked at him expectantly, as she always did when she wanted a story. 

 

"This is manipulative," Sherlock grumbled, subdued. He looked at his steadfast mate, and knew that he was fighting a losing battle. "No, I don't need anything from home," he said with a resigned sigh. "I don't suppose someone has a story handy for Charlotte, though? I've been told I'm not allowed to look at books for too long, and you know how horrible I am at making them up."

 

"You don't need to make one up, just tell them about one of your old cases," John said fondly. "They love hearing about them." His gaze turned darker. "And _I_ love hearing about them too," he added, his voice husky. He couldn't help it; thinking about his brilliant detective husband in action always got him going. Clearing his throat, he settled into the armchair beside the bed to rest his aching back. Without conscious thought his hands began running compulsively over his swollen belly, settling the pups within and reaffirming his Alpha's ownership; he didn't notice his eyes glazing over a little at the sensation.

 

Mycroft had gone into the corridor to stretch his legs, but he was quickly accosted by a doctor. 

 

"Mr Holmes, we would like to request that your brother's bondmate stays with him tonight. His presence seems to make your brother infinitely more manageable and frankly, we're short staffed. It would be... Immensely helpful to us if we could have a pliant Alpha as a patient rather than an antsy one who seems determined to be as difficult as possible. Would you ask them? I have to make my rounds..."

 

Mycroft heaved a weary sigh, looking down his nose at the doctor. "Fine," he said, when he noticed the man beginning to shift nervously. He knew well now intractable his brother could be, but it was not the doctor's place to dictate the activities of the Holmes pack. 

 

The Alpha smirked as the doctor hurried off down the hallway, then blushed, taken somewhat aback by his own behaviour. Graciousness and perhaps an apology to the medical staff would have been a more appropriate response, but the urge to assert dominance had been prevalent since he'd become pack leader, and grew stronger still with each month his Omega carried his pups. 

 

"It's been requested you stay the night," Mycroft informed John upon returning to the room. Quints and twins alike were entranced as Sherlock explained how he'd deduced the identity of a brutal axe murderer by his preferred brand of trousers, and chased him through crowds of tourists at Covent Garden. "John?" Mycroft pressed, prodding the Omega when he saw the tell-tale look in his eyes. "The doctors wish for you to stay. We'll have to arrange for the rest of your children to be brought here. They'd be upset to go the night without you two, and it will help him settle."

 

"Yes, Mycroft," John murmured obediently. "There's no way they're all going to fit in here, though... we'll need a bigger ward, and a much bigger bed... I'll see what I can do." He waved off the pack Alpha's offer of assistance. "I need to move, the twins are getting restless," he explained, patting his heavy belly. "A bit of a walk will do them good."

 

John kissed Sherlock's forehead and allowed the Alpha to lick his bondbite thoroughly before waddling into the corridor in search of a doctor. He soon found a doctor on duty and explained their situation. The doctor, however, was resistant to the idea of having so many children in one room. John sighed. "Look, as a doctor, I can tell you that he will sleep easier and heal faster with all of his children near him. As his wife, I can tell you that if he is kept from any of his children, _he will rip this hospital apart_ until he has all of them with him and secure. Trust me. This isn't you doing us a favour letting us have the pups. If you want to treat your patient, you're going to need to let him see his children."

Back in the room, the pack Alpha looked thoughtful. "He's right, you know," Mycroft said to his brother. "Your brood is simply too enormous to fit comfortably in this room. How do you sleep? I should imagine the logistics of persuading so many young pups to sleep simultaneously, especially piled together in the traditional fashion, are... complicated." "Mmm, patience and a bit of smart organization," Sherlock replied, grinning proudly at his sibling. "John and I sleep on the outside of the nest to keep the older ones corralled as they fall asleep, and to have access to the quints in their cots when they need attention in the middle of the night. After that it's just a matter of placement. Each litter enjoys sleeping together, and a few of the baker's dozen have special attachments to their younger siblings, so we make sure to keep those pairs close. Arthur goes next to the fussy ones, no matter what age. Calms them right down," he purred. Quite suddenly, a shadow of confusion and frustration crossed the detective's expression. "They are coming tonight, yes? The rest of my pups. _All_ of them. I have to account for all of them," Sherlock said firmly, his tone threatening a growl. 

 

"Yes, of course they are," Mycroft replied calmly, placing a reassuring hand on the younger Alpha's shoulder. "Gentle now, brother dearest. I've sent a message to Sephy and the others. Your babies will be here soon enough." Hugo lay down on Sherlock's chest and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, trying to curl up in it. 

 

Out in the corridor, the doctor paled, consenting that perhaps that was the best idea, and that Sherlock should be moved to a larger suite to accommodate his sizeable - and, of course, _very precious_ \- family. Several calls were made, and soon Sherlock was on his way to a large corner room, the pups squealing with delight as they rode down the hall on top of their sire.

 

Not more than half an hour later, John heard the sounds of a small herd of children stampeding through the hospital corridor. He smiled and made himself more comfortable in the makeshift nest he'd had Mycroft build; Sherlock was not allowed to exert himself, and wouldn't stand for his heavily pregnant mate exerting himself either, so the task had fallen to the pack Alpha. Mycroft had done a good job, John had to admit; he had persuaded the hospital to give him plentiful spare mattresses and blankets and even pregnancy support cushions. Lightweight cotton sheets had been suspended from IV poles to give the whole thing the look of a large tent. Sherlock was currently curled up inside it, cooing over the quints and the twins. 

 

The stampeding got louder and closer until finally thirteen energetic three-year-olds bounded into the room, held back only by their toddler harnesses which were being held by a decidedly amused-looking Lestrade. "Alright you lot, calm down now, stay still so I can I clip you and then you can go and see Daddy," Greg commanded, nodding hello to the others. 

 

"And you'll have to be quiet," John added, "Daddy's head is still sore. Hello sweethearts," he purred, as one by one the eldest litter were released and rushed to him for a quick snuggle before charging into the tent to see their father. 

 

"Mama, is Daddy going to die?" Felix asked quietly, his tiny face pinched with worry. Johns heart broke a little and he scooped his son into his arms. "No sweetheart, Daddy isn't going to die! He's going to be just fine, and he'll be able to come home tomorrow. Daddy banged his head, that's all! Go on now, go and see him." He smiled as the little boy nodded and wriggled off his lap, rushing in to the tent. 

 

Just then, Beatrice arrived with the triplets in tow. All of them made a beeline for their mother and John chuckled as he found himself with a lap full of restless two-year-olds. "Mama! Want milk please," Jasper whined, visibly upset; John knew all of the pups worshipped their father, and we're all terrified of losing him. He made quick work of his shirt and soon he was nursing both Jasper and Percival; Miranda threw herself at John's leg for a quick hug, then at Greg's, before diving into the nest and joining the swarm of pups nuzzling their sire.

 

"Hello, my darlings," Sherlock cooed, chuckling as the pups climbed in one by one into the nest. He'd settled the quints and twins safely on one side of him, giving their older siblings enough room to settle close. Felix made a beeline for his father, grabbing onto Sherlock's pyjama shirt with chubby fists and burrowing his head against his chest. The Alpha smiled fondly and wrapped a protective arm around him, extending the other to Iris. The little girl had begun to sniffle, her feelings of relief overwhelming. "Come now luv, it's alright," Sherlock soothed, drawing her close. He scented her soft hair until she giggled, the others waiting eagerly close for their own turns.

 

"Daddy," Alistair started, huffing and licking his lips as he tried to put his thoughts into words. He was never very good at speaking when excited. "Ah, um, Daddy-" He huffed again, resting his chin in his hands. "Daddy- ah- I- Are we- are we gonna sleep here? Uncle Gweg says we are sleeping here at the hopsital and ah- um- and that it's gonna help you get better," he concluded with a serious nod. 

 

"Yes, dearest, we are.... And I suppose," Sherlock concluded, catching the _if you ruin hospitals for them, I will murder you myself_ look John was giving him.

 

There came a knock at the door, and Molly strode in with a stroller of sleeping triplets. "Hello, hello... The girls fell asleep on the way. So much excitement at the house that it completely wore them out," she explained to Greg as he kissed her cheek. "They were a handful to get into the car though. Lucky for me, Sephy leant a hand."

 

"And lucky for me, my husband was out and about, giving me an excuse to go visit him," came another voice from the doorway. A second female Omega stepped into the room, her eyes bright and mischievous, her impressively pregnant belly bulging out in front of her. "I haven't been allowed a proper walk in months. Not that I have anything to complain about." With a pleased smile, she waddled heavily over to an astonished Mycroft. "Hello, Myc. Are you being a good big brother?"

 

" _Yes_ ," Mycroft replied instantly, automatically puffing himself up a little in response to his bondmate's gentle teasing. He pulled her close to him, nosing at her hair and jaw insistently. "You know I can't stand it when you don't smell like me," he growled softly, pushing his hips against her belly as he kissed her neck. "Mine." 

 

"I do know," Persephone smiled back, her voice catching a little. "Yours. Your children have been kicking me for _hours_ , Myc. Calm them down for me, darling?" 

 

John smiled, watching as Mycroft smoothed his hands across the swell of his mate's gravid belly. Greg was scenting Molly as well, blissfully unaware that he was growling under his breath. The sight made John want his own Alpha, and when Jasper and Percival had finished nursing he brought them both into the nest, settling close to Sherlock.

 

"How's your head, love?" John enquired , brushing some stray curls off his mate's forehead. 

 

"A bit better, now that our children are here," Sherlock replied, leaning over to scent his mate as several of the pups scrambled to settle around John. Alistair and Viola had squirmed under his arm, and looked at their parents expectantly.

 

"How'd you hit your head, Daddy?" Viola chirped.

 

"Yeah..." Alistair echoed, continuing his crawl up onto Sherlock's chest. He settled down next to Felix, placing an arm around his brother.

 

"I hit my head before and didn't haf'ta go to hopsital," Enora declared, draping herself over John's swollen belly.

 

"Nora hit her head yesterday," Lucy affirmed smartly.

 

"She ran into a chair," Blake giggled. 

 

Persephone purred deeply as her babies quieted within her. At eight and a half months, their strength was quite tremendous; they were truly the pups of a pack Alpha. "That's much better," she murmured, rubbing the side of her massive belly in slow, sensuous circles. She'd been anxious ever since Mycroft had left the house, and the quadruplets had felt it too. They'd pressed out on all sides, making her stomach warp and cramp with their movement. The Omega swayed her hips, rubbing against her mate as she tried to loosen the last of the tension from the afternoon. 

 

Mycroft made an odd noise somewhere between a groan and a growl. He could feel himself growing achingly hard in his trousers at the feeling of his pregnant mate in his arms, cooing with relief and pleasure at his attentions. "I thought my brother was unique in his... predilections," he whispered huskily, "but it seems I was mistaken. Do you feel what you do to me, Sephy? I want you so much, my darling. I want to have you, _right now_." The Alpha glanced quickly around the room; John had joined Sherlock in the nest with all of their children, and Greg had disappeared with Molly and their triplets in the direction of the cafeteria. "Would you be amenable to a quick shag in a side room?" Mycroft purred in Persephone's ear, a hint of a smile playing at his lips, his voice half-teasing and half-hopeful. Persephone clung to him for support, breath hitching as she nodded helplessly.

 

John saw them leave out of the corner of his eye and smiled to himself. _You're not the only Holmes with a raging pregnancy kink_ , he teased Sherlock through the bond, before turning his attention to their children. "Daddy was chasing a bad man... you remember we talked about Daddy's job, helping Uncle Greg? Well, Daddy was chasing a bad man who had committed-"

 

"What's that mean?" Adam demanded.

 

"-it means done, Daddy was chasing a bad man who had done a crime-"

 

"What... what crime did he done?" chirped Imogen, smoothing her cheek against her father's curls.

 

"What crime _had_ he done - well, he had stolen from someone-"

 

"What did he steal?" gasped Benedict, enthralled.

 

"Well, he, erm, he stole some, um, pills. It's - it's bad medicine that makes you _very very ill_ if you take it. So Daddy was chasing the bad man, and the bad man ran into a dark warehouse, and he hid, and he hit Daddy in the head with a fire extinguisher." John didn't add that when Greg had found Sherlock, he had been cuddling the fire extinguisher and talking to it as if it was one of his pups. He also didn't mention that Sherlock had flatly refused to be parted from it and that it had had to come in the ambulance with him.

 

Oh, so that's what happened," Sherlock said, still rather bemused. "Knew it was a case all along. Must get right on that," he muttered, the weight of the pups preventing him from sitting up. "Or... not," he relented, catching John's warning look. The Alpha sighed, suitably cowed. "Did Uncle Greg at least catch the bad man after I hit my head?" he prompted. 

 

Adam sucked in a breath, his blue eyes wide with anticipation; of all the pups, he adored his Uncle Greg most of all. Much to Sherlock's dismay, Adam dreamed of becoming a DI at Scotland Yard. Sometimes he even slept with one of Greg's old police hats. 

 

"Yes, Uncle Greg caught the bad man," John announced, and Adam squealed happily.

 

"I'm gonna catch all of the... the bad people when I grow big!" the pup declared. John smiled indulgently at his son and ruffled his hair.

 

"I want to be a doctor like Mama," Miles chimed in, yawning and snuggling into Sherlock's stomach.

 

"Arthur?" John prompted gently, his heart warming at the way his son blinked up at him with such obvious love in his eyes.

 

"I haven't decided yet, Mama. I want to be like Daddy and solve puzzles, but I want to be like you too and help sick people."

 

"I'm sure you'll find a way to do both, my clever boy," John cooed, stroking the boy's soft hair when he purred and nuzzled against him. "What about you, Iris?" John asked turning to his daughter.

 

"I want to be a dolphin," she said.

 

Sherlock blinked, his daughter's green eyes fixed on her mother with absolute seriousness. "And why would you like to be a dolphin?" he ventured. Having several years of parenting under his belt, the detective had become practiced at stifling the urge to correct his children's more fanciful ideas. 

 

"Dolphins are my favourite animal. And I like swimming," Iris replied, "When I'm big I can learn to swim without armbands. Then I can be a dolphin." She squirmed a little, smiling proudly at her plan. 

 

"It seems as if you have it all figured out, then," Sherlock purred, petting her dark hair. "What about you, Felix?" he asked, looking at the little boy on his chest. Comfortable in the knowledge that his father would live, Felix had released his death grip on Sherlock's shirt, though one hand still held the fabric loosely.

 

"I want to... to do baking, like wif Nana Marfa and Nana Bea," Felix said pleadingly, as if asking his father's permission. "An Immi can help, 'cause she likes it too." "Yeah," Imogen agreed. "Me an' Feliss are goin' to do bakin' an' make cakes." John smiled indulgently. "What about you, Enora?" "I want to be an aeroplane," his daughter replied earnestly. John suddenly felt a huge rush of love for his pups, these tiny ridiculous people he and Sherlock had made together; he purred quietly and ran his hands over the curve of his belly, smiling at the thought that Sherlock had put two more in him.

 

"Goodness! What kind of aeroplane would you like to be?" Sherlock asked earnestly. "A great big one!" Enora replied, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. John's feelings sang through their bond and enveloped him as well, and he gathered his mate closer. _I know_ , he replied, one of his own hands joining John's on the doctor's belly, _I know_ , _darling_. 

 

"I wanna be a painter," Viola said thoughtfully, which drew an excited start from her brother. "I wanna draw!" Benedict chimed, nodding his head, "I wanna draw story books! With knights an' cassles!"

  

John smiled and ruffled Benedict's hair in approval. Lucy and Alistair, not wanting to be left out, announced their intentions to be a vet and a dinosaur respectively; Eleanor and Blake had lost interest in the game and had curled up against Sherlock's stomach to sleep. Seeing them resting so peacefully against their sire gave John another warm rush, and tears welled in his eyes. He blinked them away quickly, not wanting the babies to think he was upset, and began to purr soothingly, hoping to entice the rest of their enormous brood to sleep so his Alpha could get some rest.

 

Sherlock looked up at the sound of John's purring, catching the last glimmer of wetness in his Omega's eyes. He took a cue from his mate and began purring as well, cuddling some of the quieter pups. It didn't take long for Felix to drop off to sleep as well, followed by Arthur, Imogen, Viola, and Miles. One by one, the other three-year-olds found their eyelids growing heavy, and were soon snoozing peacefully on top of Sherlock. Only Enora and Adam were left awake. Out of all the pups, Enora had the most energy and took the longest to put to bed. Adam was too keyed up from hearing of his uncle's adventure to fall asleep; realizing that he hadn't brought Greg's hat or his police teddy to cuddle, he refused to close his eyes until Greg returned from the cafeteria.

 

John scooped Adam into his arms, shooting a meaningful look at Sherlock before nodding at Enora. "Uncle Greg did very well today," John informed the excited pup in a low, soothing tone. "He arrested the bad man and then he took him away to the police station..." Soon, thanks to John's warmth and relaxing voice, Adam was snuggled against his mother's neck and fighting valiantly to stay awake. John droned on and on about the formalities of the arrest, making sure to include every detail of the paperwork while he rocked his son gently back and forth, pushing out as many maternal scent markers as he could to help relax the tiny Alpha.

 

Careful of the other pups already sleeping on top of him, Sherlock took Enora in his arms and kissed her temple. He cuddled her in a firm but gentle embrace, knowing that bundling her up helped calm her down. He sometimes suspected it was because she of all her siblings had had the most time in the womb.  "I'll tell you about an aeroplane I went on, if you promise to listen quietly," he said softly, taking a cue from John's book. Enora's eyes widened, and she nodded vigorously. 

 

In the nest, Alistair and Enora had both begun to tire, their little eyes closing despite their struggles. Soon they were both fast asleep, laid with their siblings in the sleeping pile. John smiled at Sherlock and stroked his hair gently. "How are you feeling, love?" he murmured quietly, not wanting to wake their pups.

 

Sherlock cast his gaze over their sleeping brood once more, making sure each was asleep and accounted for. Satisfied, he turned back to John. "Terrible. Better with everyone here, but still terrible," he murmured, cuddling up to John and resting his head on the Omega's shoulder. He splayed a hand over John's bump. "I want to go home. This bed is too firm, and these pyjamas itch. They're like paper," he complained, wrinkling his nose, "I much prefer the purple silk set you bought me for my birthday." The IV needle in his arm began to itch, and he flexed his fingers, fighting the urge to scratch at it; it had taken several tries to find the Alpha's ruined veins, and touching the bruised skin would be a much more unpleasant sensation. 

 

John clucked sympathetically and gathered Sherlock closer. "I know, my love, I know you want to go home. It's just for tonight, my brave boy." He cooed softly, nuzzling Sherlock's hair as if he were an upset pup. "We'll all go home after a nice sleep. And then tomorrow you can wear your nice soft pyjamas all day and lie on the sofa under our fur throw you got me, and I'll bring you everything you want. Myc will make pancakes, and we'll have a lovely quiet day with lots of cuddles, hmm? Does that sound nice, sweetheart?" His scent was already comfortingly maternal since he was surrounded by his pups, but John pushed out more soothing notes anyway, hoping to settle his mate.

 

Sherlock hadn't planned on regressing, but the stress of his injury and John's scent soon had him soft and pliant in the Omega's arms, nodding along with John's every word. He cuddled closer against John, his cheek pillowed on his mate's ample chest. "Sounds nice," he murmured. "Want it now," he added, gentle but stubborn. "Even just my pyjamas... and a blanket," he tried, pushing the envelope just a little. His gaze flickered up to John hopefully. "Please?"

 

"That's my sweet boy, asking nicely," John purred. He nuzzled Sherlock's curls softly. "I've got a change of pyjamas for you in my bag, your navy flannel ones... do you want me to help you change? Yeah? Alright sweetheart, lie back for me, there's a good boy..." In no time John had expertly removed Sherlock's hospital gown and was slipping the pyjama trousers up his Alpha's legs. "Hips up... there we are, top now... lift your arms for me sweetheart... good boy, all done!" He kissed Sherlock's cheek, cuddling him close again. He wasn't sure how far Sherlock had regressed, and didn't want to push him further than he needed to go; whatever Sherlock wanted he'd have, but John wanted to let him be in control. "We're not allowed our own blankets because of the infection risk, but you can sleep cuddled up close to me instead, hmm? How does that sound, my love?" John cooed and smiled, stroking Sherlock's cheek tenderly. He loved it when his Alpha needed him like this, and was glad to provide the comfort and nurturing he sought. 

 

"Mmm," Sherlock agreed, wrapping his arms around his heavy partner and snuggling up to him. He had only regressed just a little, enough to warrant the extra care and tenderness to soothe his frayed nerves. "You held out on me. You had these the whole time?" he accused teasingly, coming somewhat back to himself as he grew more comfortable. "No matter... glad you brought them. Thank you," he added gently, remembering his manners. Manners always earned him a reward. "I'm a little hungry too," he added, looking up at John innocently. "May I? Please?"

 

John purred quietly. “Of course, love. Come here.” He pulled his nightshirt open to expose his breasts, cradling Sherlock in his arms as the Alpha snuggled closer and latched on. “My love,” John murmured softly, “my darling husband. Take what you need.” Around them the pups had settled into a sleepy stupor, dozing in their cuddle pile and drifting ever closer to full sleep. John cooed happily to his mate as he fed, encouraging him to gorge himself on nourishing, creamy milk.

 

Sherlock took long, deep pulls of John’s milk. The warmth of it spread through him, soothing his aching head and making his limbs and eyelids heavy. The rest of the room seemed to fall away, the unpleasant tug of the IV drip and the steady beeping of the monitors fading into the background. There was only John’s soft body against his, the fullness of his mate’s breast against his lips, and the calming understanding that their pups were near and safe. Sherlock drank his fill until his middle was round and distended, pressing firmly against John’s heavy belly. He latched off with a contented sigh, his curly head dropping against the pillow of John’s chest. “John,” he murmured, after a long pause. “I’m ... sorry. About today. I should have been more careful.”

 

John shushed his mate softly. “You will be next time. I know how you get during a chase when your blood’s up and you know you’re closing in... but you’d better never scare me like that again. We could have lost you.” He hugged Sherlock closer, nuzzling his forehead and pushing feelings of forgiveness through their bond; he knew the Alpha felt terrible about his mistake. “You’re safe now, love. No harm done. And I know that next time you’ll be more cautious. It’s alright, Sherlock.” With their children settled and snoozing around them, it was warm and quiet in their makeshift nest. John purred contentedly, encouraging Sherlock to lie down with him to relax into sleep.

 

“Mmm,” Sherlock hummed in reply, his body relaxing fully against his Omega as John’s forgiveness flowed through him like liquid warmth. His eyelids drooped, and he yawned. Surrounded by his family, and filled with reassurance, he finally felt the extent of his exhaustion. His limbs were too heavy to move. His eyelids felt weighted; it was too much to fight gravity to keep them open. “John,” he whispered, a promise to do better. The pups inside his Omega stretched, one placing gentle pressure against his palm. Sherlock smiled, his eyes closing fully. He would do better, he vowed to himself, his last thought before he drifted off. 

 

* * *

 

Mycroft had located an unoccupied on-call room, locking the door behind them as Persephone waddled laboriously to an open bed, her jumper already pushed up over her swollen middle. Spreading her legs and holding the pole of one of the bunks, she lowered herself down with a heavy groan, stifling a grin as she saw Mycroft frozen in the doorway. "You like this, big boy?" she cooed, her eyes dark as she pushed the straining band of her trousers lower. Her gigantic belly sat low and ripe, the furthest curve of it pushing past her knees. "You like how big and swollen I've become because of you? Look at what you've made me, Myc," she moaned, caressing her full womb. Persephone's scent had changed, her usual floral notes becoming honeyed and inviting. "I'm so wet for you, my Alpha," she purred. "Please, I need you to take me now."

 

"You naughty girl," Mycroft said smoothly, "trying to rile up your Alpha... you know exactly what it does to me, seeing you so big with my children." Completely in control, he walked with a perfectly measured stride over to his mate. "I think I'll have to tease you a little as payback, darling." He tugged off her trousers and pants and flung them aside. "Lean back for me, my love." Persephone keened softly and obeyed, shivering a little as Mycroft sank to his knees in one smooth motion and began covering her sex in open-mouthed kisses. "I want to hear you, my treasure. Let me hear those beautiful noises you make for me," he murmured, smoothing his hands over her thighs. His cock pulsed, struggling against the confines of his trousers, but he ignored it in favour of lapping hungrily at his Omega's delicious juices.

 

"O-oh Myc-" Persephone moaned, her toes curling. She gasped as Mycroft's tongue entered her, arching as much as she was able. "Hahhh- God, that's-" Her breath hitched, her mate's ministrations drawing a delicate whine from her throat. The Omega's head lolled back as she released another wave of slick, her fluids coursing down her bondmate's chin as her sounds became more desperate. Even in front of their pack members, Mycroft and Persephone were controlled in their affections; in private, however, they had no reservations about driving one another wild. "Please," she begged, her belly heaving with her laboured breaths, "My- ahh- Myc, darling- _take me_ -"

 

"On your side," Mycroft growled, too far gone for niceties. In one fluid movement he rose and surged onto the bed behind his Omega, spooning up behind her. He yanked his zip down and pulled out his pulsing erection, flexing his hips to press the head of his cock to her velvet wet core. "Do you feel that, my darling?" he growled, "can you feel what you do to me?" Without waiting for a response, he began to ease himself inside his Omega, taking it slowly so that she would feel every inch of him. He propped himself up on one elbow, and used his other arm to hitch Persephone's leg up a little further; in this position he could help her keep her leg raised and splay his hand possessively across his mate's full belly. "Mine," he rumbled as instinct began to suck him under. "My pups. My mate." Persephone cried out breathily at being impaled on her Alpha's enormous cock, the girth of it making her feel deliciously trapped. "Y-yes Myc,"she stuttered, beginning to lose herself as well when Mycroft began to thrust.

 

Persephone gave a deep, luxurious moan as instinct pulled her under as well. The position sent a flare of pain and tightness through her lower back and middle, the sensation quickly washed away by the pleasure of Mycroft's enormous cock inside her, opening her. She arched with difficulty, pressing her expansive belly outward, making it seem to grow in size. " _A-ah- Alpha_ ," she gasped, heaving, panting. An animal noise of desire escaped from her throat. Her own hands roamed sensually over her gravid middle, displaying it to her mate, showing what he had made her, encouraging him.

 

"Yes, my darling," Mycroft rumbled, smiling and nuzzling her ear. "I'm _your_ Alpha, and you are my sweet, perfect Omega." He kept up his rhythm, rolling his hips in smooth but firm thrusts. "It pleases me immensely to see you like this, so... _gravid_... with my litter..." As he spoke his words became more strained, his voice cracking with lust, his hands splaying over his mate's swollen belly. "My treasure... my sweet one, oh, I love you," he chanted, beginning to lose himself while he thrust more firmly. Sweat beaded on his brow and pooled in the hollow of his throat as he grunted his pleasure, the room echoing with the slap of his hips against his Omega.

 

Persephone had long since lost any remaining inhibitions, her head tossed back against Mycroft's' shoulder, her reddened lips parted in a blissful smile. Low, animal moans rolled from deep in her chest, punctuated by her laboured panting. Pinned between the enormous weight of her middle and her Alpha, she was forced to let Mycroft take complete charge, and the knowledge of her situation only increased her pleasure. Her hands roamed her middle until they found Mycroft's. She pressed his fingers even more firmly against the taut, glistening flesh. "Yours," she breathed. Two dark patches were spreading across the front of her jumper, drawing attention to the full breasts and hardened nipples beneath. 

 

As soon as he scented the milk, Mycroft's pupils blew wide, his eyes almost ferally dark. " _Yes_ ," he hissed in triumph. " _Mine._ " It felt _right_ to give in to his Alpha side so fully like this; before Persephone, he had been the only Alpha in his pack without a mate, and he had often wished for an Omega of his own. Now he had her, plump and full with his litter of quadruplets, moaning in pleasure underneath him, his bondmark vivid on her neck, and the sensations made his cock pulse with excitement. He cupped her swollen belly firmly but reverently as he increased his pace once more, growling under his breath. "Come for me," he begged, his voice cracking, "show me how much you love me, love this..."

 

Persephone gave a desperate, hiccuping gasp which became a loud moan as her orgasm suddenly crashed through her. She clenched hard around Mycroft, her belly pulling tight at the same time. Her lips formed shapes which tried to become words - _Mycroft, Alpha_ \- but trailed into blissful cries that rolled in waves from her throat. She loved Mycroft, more than anything in the world. She had felt the pull from the moment they'd met. Never had she suspected how much she would love being bonded and bred; now, she couldn't imagine how she'd gone so long without it. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, her fingers pressing more firmly against Mycroft's on her round middle. Heavy and full to bursting with Mycroft's pups - with the pups of a pack Alpha - she felt incredible, and incredibly powerful. 

  

As soon as he felt his Omega clenching around him, Mycroft felt his whole body go taut with pleasure as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He groaned and flexed his hips helplessly, pulling Persephone closer to him while he spent inside her in strong pulses. "Oh, my love, my sweet darling, my treasure... Oh, I adore you," the Alpha moaned, nuzzling his Omega's bondbite in the afterglow. "So plump and pretty, filled with my children..." He groped her full belly reverently, humming in approval and satisfaction, then slid his hand up to her chest to stroke her nipples. "I think I'll have to milk you soon, won't I my dear? Should I have you on the pumps, perhaps? Should I suckle from you? Or should I milk you by hand?" He smiled, dropping soft kisses across his wife's bondbite.

 

Persephone moaned delicately, her milk coming easily at the touch. Warm, creamy liquid flowed over Mycroft's fingertips and trickled down the Omega's heaving breasts. "Hands," she replied in a low murmur, reaching out to cup Mycroft's cheek, "Though you're filling out nicely from all my milk, darling. It's very tempting to let you drink from me again." Her eyes twinkled as she looked at Mycroft. The very next moment, her focus vanished as her back gave a hard twinge of protest, sending a shiver though her heavy form. The Omega gave a moan of pain and alarm as her muscles tightened, her hand dropping to her large middle as it spasmed and contracted visibly. Her passage clenched around her mate's hard member, and as she gave another crying moan her waters released all at once, gushing around Mycroft's cock and soaking the sheets beneath them.

 

Mycroft couldn't help the desperate strangled groan of pleasure that escaped him as he felt his Omega's waters break around his cock. He gently extricated himself and nuzzled her neck, stroking her belly soothingly. "Oh, my darling love," he whispered, "it's time? My sweet one. Shall I fetch a midwife?" They had discussed the birth, of course, and had planned to be in their nest at home, but Mycroft did not want his precious Omega to feel any apprehension at this new situation. At that moment, had she asked him for the moon, he felt he could have fetched it. "What do you need, my treasure?"

 

Persephone panted, holding her enormous - now visibly lower - middle as the contraction eased off just a little. The weight of the pups inside her had completely shifted; she could now feel a large head pressing impatiently against her cervix, urging her to open her legs wider. Standing would be impossible even if she had wanted to. While she'd known the risk she was taking when she ventured outside, she'd never expected her children to want to come so swiftly into the world. But there was no time for regrets. "No midwife. I only need you," she replied, shaking her head and breathing deep. "Just you and I, darling. It's no nest of fine cloth, but at least we won’t ruin those precious silks." She took a long inhale as the contraction picked up again, the tightness having never fully left. Her middle clenched tight like a vice, making her grab for Mycroft's hand as she let out a strained groan. The pleasure would come eventually, but she had to bear with the pain first.

 

Mycroft let Persephone squeeze his hand until he could almost feel his bones crunch without complaint. When the contraction had passed he nuzzled in closer, lapping slowly and sensuously at her bondbite. "My Omega," he growled softly. "Gorgeous, perfect creature. Heavy with my progeny. You were built for this. No midwife, just us." He trailed kisses around her throat, pressed insistent gentle kisses to her lips, dropped lower, lower until he reached her breasts and delicately suckled each nipple in turn. "Let me make you feel good," he pleaded, looking up at his Omega through his lashes as he lowered his head further and began to lap up her juices. The taste was sweet and musky and intoxicating; the knowledge that he had bred this Omega coursed through him like adrenaline, making his cock achingly hard while he circled his tongue around Persephone's clit. 

 

Persephone dug her fingers into the thin sheets, the pained moan that escaped her lips blooming into an exhale of pleasure. She curled her toes at the sensation as Mycroft skilfully caressed her, his breath warm and heavy against her sex. Her belly was still tight, eager to bear her pups, but her newfound arousal dulled the edge of the contraction and urged her to chase bliss instead. "Ooh- oh- oh darling-" she groaned happily, her legs falling open wider of their own accord. As she did so, the first pup pressed down again and found passage, making her bellow. She was the vessel for the pack Alpha's pups, and she was ready to deliver. Persephone had always understood her pups were exceptionally large, but only now did she truly appreciate their gigantic size as the head entered her birth canal. Suddenly, she was blissfully, impossibly, unbearably full. "Now-," she gasped raggedly, struggling to articulate when her body only knew one command, "Push- now, Mycroft, darling, now, I need to-" She cut off as she groaned, bearing down with incredible strength. 

 

It was over in seconds, the baby emerging in one slick slide, caught deftly by its sire. Mycroft stared in wonder at the baby in his hands. A son. “Sephy,” he breathed, smiling at her with tears in his eyes, “darling, it’s a boy. We have a son.” Persephone purred loudly, allowing Mycroft to scent the boy before reaching out to demand the baby so she could feed him. Mycroft stayed protectively close, guarding his mate and their child in the lull between this birth and the next. He couldn’t put into words the dizzying mix of joy, pride, love, and possessiveness he felt, but he knew that Persephone would sense it through their bond, and nuzzled her forehead solicitously, silently asking her if he could fetch her anything. 

 

Persephone’s purring deepened at the overwhelming emotion that flooded through their connection. No, she didn’t need anything, she replied through a soft wave of calm, she only needed Mycroft to stay close. At her breast, their firstborn nursed eagerly. His auburn hair was a perfect match to his father’s, and she could already tell he’d have the same handsome aquiline nose. She tenderly brushed a small curl from his forehead, radiating with pride. Within her, the other pups were already shifting, becoming more insistent. She shut her eyes against the next contraction, a bead of sweat trickling from her temple. It felt like ages - and yet, no more than the blink of an eye - as she writhed and moaned through three more strenuous births, each pup as enormous as the last. By the end she was spent, her soft form curled protectively around four perfect pups, two nursing at her breasts as she caught her breath. She looked up, and her eyes met Mycroft’s, and she beamed. 

 

Mycroft beamed back at Persephone, his heart so full he thought it might burst. He had not known it was possible to love anything as fiercely as he loved his four tiny children; he adored his wife, and his mother and brother, but the sense of protectiveness and wonder and the immediate intensity of feeling he had felt when he saw each of them draw their first shaky breath threatened to overwhelm him. “Sephy...” he breathed, “my treasure, they’re so perfect. You did so well.” He scooped up the two babies who weren’t currently feeding and held them close to his chest, allowing them to feel his warmth and imprint on his scent. “What would you like to name them?” Persephone looked up at him in surprise. They had agreed to wait until the babies were born before deciding; it was of course traditional for the Alpha to declare the names of the pups, but Mycroft wanted their mother to choose. 

 

Persephone blushed as her Alpha’s tender smile reasserted his permission. “Oh, Mycroft,” she murmured, deeply honoured. She looked down at the two girls nursing healthily at her teats, contemplative. “They’re strong,” she said proudly. “And beautiful. And certainly they have your intellect. ... Artemis and Athena. Our little goddesses,” she announced, looking back at her mate, seeking his approval. “I think you should name our boys, my love,” she asserted gently. As grateful as she was for the favour, she believed Mycroft deserved to fulfil part of the traditional role. The pups in Mycroft’s arms curled against him, content in the understanding that they were safe with their sire. One gave a big yawn, waving his chubby fist with the effort. “Tell me, what should we call the firstborn sons of the pack leader?”

 

Mycroft purred his assent to his mate’s choice of names for their daughters. He paused to look down at their sons, cradled safely in his arms. “Aurelius,” he murmured, nuzzling their firstborn. _The golden one_. Holding his own children in his arms was something Mycroft had never allowed himself to believe might happen; now that it was real, he could scarcely believe how fortunate he had been. Five years ago it had all been so different; Siger had still ruled the Holmes pack with an iron fist; Beatrice and Catherine and Remington had been trapped and miserable; Sherlock had been desperate to claim John but afraid to act; and Mycroft himself had been alone, knowing the day would come when he must challenge Siger and unwilling to mate in case he was slain in the attempt to defeat his sire. Now he was the head of the pack, respected and loved; his family were happy and settled; Sherlock had sired a frankly obscene number of children on John; and Mycroft had claimed a mate of his own. The only thing that made it feel real in the moment was the solid weight of his two sons, snuggled against his bare chest. Mycroft purred again, a gentle rumble to make his little family feel safer and more secure. Looking down at his second-born son, he noticed that the baby had his nose, proud and aquiline. “Augustus,” he smiled. _Majestic_.  


End file.
